The Remarkably Long Life of Pathos
by rudefool
Summary: Edward Elric happens upon a certain bastard on the side of the road. Caught between wanting payback and attempting to understand his father, Ed spends the next twenty four hours wanting acutely to punch Van Hohenheim in the face. However, something keeps stopping Ed from doing just that. Needless to say, the Fullmetal Alchemist is beyond annoyed. (Brotherhood/Manga)


A.N.: Well damn. For whatever reason, I really like Brohood Hohenheim. I also love the Elric bros and Scar and the Chimeras and all the Armstrongs and Team Mustang and the Xingese royals and pretty much everyone else in the show, but that's a different story. Ah... Whatever. I just wanted to write this... Have fun or something.

The Remarkably Long Life of Pathos

It really was pathetic, finding his old man face-down in the ditch along the road. In the sharp, biting fall wind, Ed saw the flutter of something golden deep in the browning brush. He hadn't expected the back half of his father, though- maybe a young lady- with hair as long as that, or even a scrap of gilt fabric- but not the man absent from his childhood for more than 10 years. Many times, the young alchemist imagined meeting his father and truly giving the man a piece of his mind. Plenty of circumstances had materialized in Ed's visualization- they may have started differently but all ended the same: son giving father a well-deserved face full of metal. After all those thoughts, Ed was spectacularly disappointed by the completely anticlimactic turn of events that had led him to the fairly elusive man.

Edward stood at the edge of the road glaring down at the form sprawled in the miniature valley of the overgrown gully. Van Hohenheim continued in the gutter, completely unaware of anything and becoming increasingly annoying with inactivity. It would have been very satisfying to punch the older man awake, but Ed controlled himself. No doubt the reasons for being unconscious in a ditch, miles from civilization, were far from rosy and the Fullmetal alchemist did have some sympathy- even for his runaway dad.

So he slid down the bank, pulling at offensive nettles and thorns until he stood directly over the man's prone form. Tied tight on the back of Hohenheim's head was that signature golden ponytail which Ed found his fingers drawn to. A nice tug seemed terribly mild compared to a solid slug in the nose. Tentatively, he gathered the strands in one hand, making sure each hair was accounted for, and fisted it firmly. The pull was similar to that instance on the train when Al told him to activate the emergency brakes. This time, instead of halting, Edward instigated motion, literally lifting his father's face from the debris that had settled there. Maybe Ed really did lack that sympathy; he knew it was incredibly uncomfortable when people yanked his hair, but it was very rewarding when his motion brought forth a yelp from the man.

Releasing his hold, Edward watched with less pleasure as his father's face returned to its bed of old leaves and dead things.

"Get up."

There was no response

"Hey, Bastard!" Ed smacked the back of Hohenheim's head

"Rise and shine, old man!" reaching with his automail arm, Edward wedged his fingers under the man's shoulder and flipped him over. Hohenheim blinked blearily at his son.

"Edward?" he asked unbelieving, squinting up at the boy towering over him. Arms akimbo, a perfect frown reserved for bastards on his face, the Fullmetal alchemist began with some venom.

"No, it's just the Fuehrer taking a piss in the gutter." Hohenheim blinked, completely missing everything

"Edward? Is that you?"

Really, Ed wished the whole meeting was more spectacular. Then it would have been acceptable to sock his father upside the head. Everything was way too subdued. The Fullmetal Alchemist didn't do subtle- in fact, he wouldn't know subtle if it climbed up his pants and exploded. This made the entire situation very trying for the eldest Elric. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah it's me. What are you doing here, Bastard?"

"Edward... Have you gotten taller?"

Completely ignoring that Hohenheim did not answer the question, Ed exploded

"Of course I got taller! It's been years since you saw me last! Why would you phrase that like a question? I'm obviously not the size of a three-year-old any more!" the shouts echoed out of the gully and across the field "Stupid Bastard." the young state alchemist finished sulkily.

Hohenheim furrowed his brow slightly, but then had the nerve to chuckle at his son's outburst.

Ed scowled. "And I see you haven't changed one bit." he snapped.

That put an abrupt halt to his father's mirth and the older man's face settled into some sort of reserved melancholy that Ed had no idea how to deal with. He struggled for more insults, but couldn't bring them to his lips. Instead, Edward turned away from his father's golden gaze and frowned some more.

"I'm sorry Edward." it was an apology for more than the unintended insult of height. Hohenheim sounded so sincere that Ed just wanted to spin around and punch him right in the mouth. Not because he didn't believe his father was sorry, but because he had no clue how to handle the honest regret.

The Fullmetal alchemist whipped his head around for another potent scowl. Restraining himself, Ed's glare could have sparked the air like one of Mustang's snaps. He shut his eyes briefly and released a tormented sigh, wishing Al hadn't stayed in Central for this trip.

"Whatever, old man. Just stop wallowing in that ditch and get up." Ed grit out.

"Well... You see, Edward... that is where the problem lies. I cannot get out of this ditch." Hohenheim had the nerve to sound sheepish.

"And why is that?" the words came even tighter with more obviously waning control.

"I don't have the strength at the moment, I'm afraid. You can just leave me here. I'll get up later."

Ed's face morphed into the textbook portrayal of 'You've got to be kidding me.' as he met his father's eyes.

"I'm not going to leave you here. Even if you are a bastard." Hohenheim looked momentarily surprised before smiling softly. Ed really did want to punch him.

With monumental self-disapline, Ed refrained from any violence and used his pent-up energy to hoist his very tall and broad shouldered father from the gutter. The man was much lighter than he expected, but still weighty enough to require a large amount of huffing and puffing and cursing. The worst part was how incredibly unwieldy Hohenheim was; Ed's father certainly wasn't made for carrying convenience. All through the struggle, the older man tried to stumble up on his own with little effect.

"Stop moving, you idiot!" came harshly after a few very unhelpful attempts from Hohenheim who fell forward and proceeded to get tangled in a patch of over-enthusiastic briars. Ed was beside himself, praying to whatever deity had any remote possibility of existing to grant him the virtue of everlasting patience. Nothing answered that call.

After an immense amount of tumbling and floundering through the brush, the two of them crested the bank and lay on the thinning gravel by the roadside to catch their breath.

"So why were you even down there anyway?" Ed lifted his head to peer at his father who gazed, supine at the sky.

"I usually collapse once I get to town. Guess I must have underestimated the distance." Hohenheim spoke to the clouds above them lightly, as if passing out on the road every once in a while was completely acceptable.

"Usually?" Edward repeated incredulously "So traveling to the point of exhaustion is a regular thing?" his question was heated as he watched his father who continued to peer up at the heavens. Who would choose the life of a vagabond, stumbling half starved into strange towns, over the calm domestic one he had with his wife and children? Why did the man insist on living like this?

"That is something I can deal with, Edward. Starving on the road is not as harsh as you might think."

"Yeah. Obviously not as harsh as staying with your wife and kids!" He really hadn't meant to sound that hurt, but everything rang like the whine of some snotty little brat desperate for his father's love and Ed hated it. He stood abruptly and gave the man a good view of his back. A quiet prevailed on the road, broken only by the soft skittering of leaves over gravel and the faint buzz of the wind in the pines like white noise from a radio. Things felt incredibly awkward for Ed. Peeking over his shoulder proved the opposite for Hohenheim who appeared to have fallen asleep.

Maybe he could leave his father right there. Hohenheim had suggested that course of action earlier and Ed was sure the only hard feelings would be his own against the bastard who had left. Give the man a taste of his own medicine, right?

"I know you may not understand, but I do not deserve that kind of life." Hohenheim spoke softly with eyes still closed and Ed whirled around snarling.

"Just stop with the self pity! It's making it pretty hard for me to hate you right now!"

His father's eyes snapped open to peer at him quizzically.

"But what I say is true-"

"Don't give me that crap." Ed said gruffly "Everyone deserves a chance at that life- even an idiot bastard like you." at this, Hohenheim looked genuinely shocked. Pushing himself up away from the road with shaky limbs, the older man stood and moved to put a hand on his son's shoulder. Ed just wished his father wasn't trying so hard- then maybe he could punch the man without all his semi-redeeming qualities cropping up. Once again steeling himself from violence, Edward settled for brushing off the hand and giving his father another scowl for good measure.

"What are you doing wasting your energy, idiot? C'mon." he grappled with the much taller man's arm until one supported the other. They didn't start moving.

"Edward? I'm sorry... But would you mind getting my briefcase?... I think it's still in the ditch." Ed dropped Hohenheim in frustration while grumbling "Of course I mind!", but went down into the gully to retrieve the bag anyway. The leather briefcase was amazingly battered, covered in alchemy scars, tape and shriveling lengths of twine. The name V. Hohenheim was embossed haphazardly on one side, letters faded and fuzzy. Ed wondered why someone like his father even needed a briefcase- his sole occupation appeared to be lying unconscious in roadside ditches.

Hohenheim was sitting up when Edward returned and the man began a rather annoying round of apologies that Ed wished could be quieted with a punch. He dumped the bag in his father's lap.

"There, take your junk. Let's go already."

Hohenheim complied, stumbling up with Ed's help. The briefcase fell on the ground. It was quickly snatched up and shoved into its owner's chest before anything else happened.

"You're really making life harder for me, ya know that?"

"I'm sorry-"

There was a sharp noise of exasperation from Edward, "Just shut up and start walking."

* * *

Hours later, Ed was spared extended exposure of his father by an elderly woman in her tow truck. The nervous feeling in his gut dissipated as he climbed onto a battered leather seat because he wouldn't have to spend the night on the road with the bastard- the bastard who had proved he was actually annoyingly apologetic and distinctly lacking the pride Ed had originally thought him very capable of. The man was downright embarrassing at times and self depreciating enough to leave Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, speechless for a few moments. Everything about Hohenheim was terribly perplexing; it made the young alchemist's head spin.

The truck whirred into action once the two had settled and it lurched forward with a vile puff of purple smoke. They both sat on the long bench seat stretched before the windshield. Hohenheim was wedged in the middle with Ed and their driver on either side. Behind the wheel, the stubby old woman drove with nearly devastating inaccuracy, grinding on the gravel with deadly swerves. Ed had to push his father off multiple times as he swayed like some man-shaped pendulum between the truck's other occupants. The vehicle jumped. Hohenheim fell on their driver.

"Get your brother off of me, young man." brother? Was the lady blind? The thought was incredibly bothersome.

"The name's Maurice, by the way." she dodged a rock and leaned across a massive, canyon-like gap to pop open the glove box. Fumbling in the compartment for a short while, she returned with a pack of cigarettes.

"Mind telling me your names, kid?" Maurice lit the cigarette and brought it to her lips before elbowing Hohenheim. So she hadn't been addressing Ed? This woman thought his old man qualified as a "kid"? That was just disturbing.

"I'm Edward Elric." Ed told her from somewhere behind the older alchemist.

"Name sound's familiar." the wait for people to realize he was the famed people's alchemist was customary.

"Eh... I'll remember later... So who's your partner?"

"Partner? Whoever said we were friends?" Maurice shrugged and finally looked at the road.

"Whoever said you weren't? Well, you obviously know him so cough it up."

"Van Hohenheim." came the older man's response. Ed flung himself back as his father rejoined the world of the lucid. His faint reflection in the windshield held another angry frown.

"Fancy name, huh? Where ya coming from?" a hazy cloud, nearly matching the one released from the tailpipe earlier, snaked from her crinkled lips and Ed was reminded briefly of Granny Pinako. Hohenheim coughed on the smoke before they simultaneously answered

"South."

"East."

The two alchemists turned toward one another with differing expressions. Ed glared. Hohenheim raised his brows before continuing.

"Actually, I do recall hitting my head pretty hard. I must have forgotten we were coming from the south." all the while, his father's golden gaze remained on Ed, calm and observant as if he were readying himself for an explosive alchemic reaction that was completely expected.

"Yeah... Old man's lost in more ways than one. Listen, how long until the next town 'cause I'm really hungry."

Maurice kept her eyes off the road as she pivoted to peer past Hohenheim at Ed.

"Impatient, are you kid? And what's this about an old man?"

"You know, the one sitting next to you."

She squinted where indicated. Upon inspection, Hohenheim looked immensely calm and somewhat amused.

"He doesn't look that old to me."

"Anyone's young compared to a senile bat like you." Ed muttered.

Slack in his seat, looking very capable of collapsing in a ditch, Ed's father began shaking. He panicked for a moment before remembering he wasn't supposed to actually care about Hohenheim. The Fullmetal alchemist slumped back while peeking furtively at the man.

"How old are you, young man?" her cigarette flopped when she spoke, like some unfortunate, dying fish in the maul of a predator. The quiet that proceeded was musty with tobacco stench and whispy trails of smoke through the hazy air. It became apparent in this pause why, exactly, Van Hohenheim was shaking when he released an audible laugh.

"I'm much older than you think." the chuckles quieted and Maurice shrugged, nearly taking the entire truck with her shoulders.

"Aren't we all, kid?" Ed rolled his eyes. Maurice's appearance corresponded as honestly with her age as Hawkeye was accurate with a gun. If the elderly women looked any older, she would be dead. Still, she drove with incredible vitality and abandon more fitting for someone 70 years younger.

The car had less endurance for a style unfitting of age, though. Just as Maurice informed the two alchemists that the town was nearing, it gave one last lurch before shuddering to a stop. Ed and Hohenheim shared a look that was terrifyingly identical while their driver smacked the steering wheel with a gnarled fist. The horn rang through the flatlands around them, an echoing, staccato fragment of discord.

"Sonofabitch." it slipped from Maurice's tongue with ease. The curse seemed as natural as taking off your socks before bed.

"What's going on?" Ed asked, already knowing the answer.

"Piece of crap conked out on me!" the driver's door was flung open with a burst of cold air that pressed all traces of cigarette smoke from the cabin. From his perch behind the windshield, Edward watched Maurice march around the vehicle, stopping in the middle of the front bumper to deliver a solid kick.

"What kind of tow truck needs to be towed? What a piece of junk." they could hear the old woman's voice through her open door. She shoved her hands in her leather coat pockets and glared. Too simultaneously amused and frustrated by the entire situation, Ed didn't notice his father edge off the seat and out the door to lean on the rusted shell of the truck.

"Do you have anything to restart it with?" the man's voice came from outside. Edward seethed. So, the stupid bastard couldn't just sit and let his very capable son fix this?

"Hey! Get back in here, you-"

"Bloody husband took all the tools today. When I get back, I swear I'm gonna ring his neck." Maurice sent Ed an irritated glance before wrenching the hood open, effectively blocking the Fullmetal Alchemist's view.

"Think the battery's dead. Though I only got it a few months ago, so the man who sold it to me is gonna get hell." her irate voice was muffled behind the metal and Ed was left shuffling around to see past it.

"I think I can fix that." Hohenheim said quietly

"Don't be ridiculous. We'll have to hot-shot-"

A red glow began under the hood, wavering and crackling- an alchemic reaction. Ed was up and out of the truck in an instant. Red light! There was something ominously familiar about that color. As he rounded the front of the vehicle, it shook back to life, headlights flashing on momentarily blinding. Ed blinked, rubbing spots from his eyes. Under the hood, Maurice stood with Hohenheim slung over her low shoulder looking worn.

"Got it runnin' like a charm, eh?" she called over the engine cheerfully "Never thought I'd pick up an alchemist!" Ed rolled his eyes again- it seemed he was doing a lot of that today.

"Yeah, yeah, lady," a gloved wave in dismissal "we're all over the place. Now c'mon let's use this truck while it's still running." he clambered back inside and waited for everyone else.

Van Hohenheim appeared at the door first, struggling to hoist himself up into the cabin. Behind him came Maurice's grunt of effort.

"Help me get your friend in here, kid."

Grabbing his father's wrists and hauling the man in, Ed grumbled "He's not my friend." which Hohenheim seemed to take with understanding, albeit hurt, resignation.

They proceeded once Maurice threw herself into her seat and took her questionable hold on the steering wheel.

"Does that alchemy thing always make you so tired?" she peered at the drooping Hohenheim with slight concern.

"Only after you've nearly traveled yourself to death." Ed supplied with a glare.

"We all have off days." this accompanied by a shrug from Hohenheim. Ed wondered how, exactly, the man defined an "off" day.

"You don't say. I'd be having a hell of a time if you alchemists hadn't been there to zap that battery." Maurice paused to look at the road for once. "Hey... That's where I heard your name before, kid. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, right? People say you're the only State Alchemist on their side." Ed basked in the glow that was fame.

"State Alchemist? When did this happen, Edward?" all the glory came toppling back down to the prickly reality.

"A couple of years ago. Really, what rock did you crawl out from- or have you been in that ditch the whole time?" Hohenheim blinked, looking at his son as if he had never seen anything like Ed before.

"Why?"

"That's none of your business."

"I'm your father."

"No, you're a bastard."

"I'm still your father."

"Yeah, well, that never really mattered much, did it?"

"Edward..." he turned away from the tentative voice of his father who should have known better than to sound hurt.

"Just shut up."

A long, uncomfortable pause fell in the truck cabin. Ed swerved to watch the darkened window. Hohenheim appeared to have fallen asleep in the reflection, but the Fullmetal Alchemist now knew better then to assume his father's actions were what they seemed.

"And that's why people shouldn't marry and have kids young." Maurice sounded irritatingly amused and knowing. Edward whipped his head around to scowl at her.

"What?"

Hohenheim's eyes snapped open and he appeared confused enough that Ed wanted to hit him just to get the stupid look off his face.

"Should have known you were father and son. Hey, I would've warned you, but I'm definitely too late. This is what happens when you have 'em young." Hohenheim's complete shock was infuriating. The man was making a fool out of them.

"You don't know anything, lady." the young alchemist warned

"I know a helluva lot, I'll have you know."

"Yeah, enough to think that old man is my brother!"

"You're lucky your father fixed my truck or you'd be out on the side of the road by now!"

"Well I perfectly capable-"

"Where's your brother? Where's Alphonse?" Hohenheim queried softly. Ed froze from the aggressive pose he had adopted fighting with Maurice. He melted back into his seat, arms folded and a grimace on his face.

"Back in Central."

Now Ed was glad Al wasn't there. Hohenheim would definitely figure out why his younger son was in a suit of armor. Explaining himself to his father was not something the Fullmetal Alchemist looked forward to.

"How is he?"

"Fine."

"How are you?"

"Fine, until you showed up."

His father faltered for words.

"Uh... well I'm..."

Ed prepared his customary "shut up" for Hohenheim's eventual, awfully annoying apology.

"Edward... I-"

"Aww shut yer trap. Both of you kids are damn depressing." Maurice growled. "And we're in town. Get out!" Surprised by the sudden arrival, they struggled out. Ed clenched his teeth. Hohenheim was really not a child.

"He's not a kid! He's old enough to be my father!" Maurice shut the door and looked imperially upon the State Alchemist, unamused.

"Couldn't have been too long ago that you were born, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean? Huh, lady?" Edward's voice was low and warning. Brandishing a fist at her face in the window, he knew well enough where these parting comments were going.

"Well, at the size you are, you can't be too old." no doubt Hohenheim, who was leaning on his son, felt Ed stiffen.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE CAN WALK THROUGH THE HOLES IN A SCREEN DOOR?"

"What- Edward! She never said that!"

The truck leaped forward and Maurice's rusty cackle faded as the she drove down the main street. Ed huffed as he saw the vehicle putter over the hill, the headlights vanishing from sight.

"We never got to thank her..."

"Old coots don't need my gratitude."

Edward began dragging his father down the road and towards a brightly lit inn. It would have been nice to be the size of Armstrong. Hohenheim was tall, but no one trumped the Strongarm Alchemist when it came to stature. Ed wondered when he would get as tall as the man he was supporting. That was his father after all. The thought was quickly dismissed, though, he didn't want to admire Hohenheim for anything- much less his height.

"Have you got any money?" Ed hiked his father up some. With a free hand, Hohenheim searched his coat pockets.

"I'm sure I've got some..." he dug around more "Somewhere..."

He continued the search as they fumbled up the stairs to the inn porch. The building was reminiscent of those found in the rolling hills of south Amestris, all bright stucco and terra cotta tiles. It was hard to see in the waning day, but the walls were distinctly goldenrod, bright and cheery in the lamp light. The air around smelled of woodsmoke and something roasted- something delicious. Ed licked his lips. He hadn't eaten since morning. Beside him, Hohenheim was still preforming an excavation of his pockets which were surprisingly more numerous than originally thought. There were quite a few in the coat lining and many that appeared to have pockets within pockets. The search was actually incredibly annoying to watch.

"Hohenheim." his father was in obvious bewilderment at the use of his own name. Ed hadn't called him anything other than you, Bastard, old man, and idiot during their entire exchange. It made the young alchemist feel almost guilty-which quickly morphed into irritation.

"Stop wriggling. I can't get us through this door with all the twitching.

"Oh. Of course..."

He took a deep breath. With a solid kick, the door swung in and Hohenheim was flung through the threshold. Ed stood in the entryway looking completely the all powerful alchemist over his face-planted father who groaned into the floor.

"Edward... Was that really necessary?"

"You bet, old man!" Ed answered all smug and reached for Hohenheim's collar, proceeding to drag his father over to the sparsely occupied bar. The tender looked fantastically unperturbed, his towel circling a cup so indifferently he could have shared the same emotional capabilities as an ocillating desk fan. He peered down at Ed, eyes dark under a heavy brow and moved to give Hohenheim a significant look.

"Hope he's not like that 'cause he got kicked out of some other bar in town. You'd better be glad it's Tuesday; if it were any other day I wouldn't even give him a chance." the glass met the counter with a soft clunk. This must have been a slow and more lenient day when it came to clientele.

"No. We just came from out of town. Do you have any rooms for us?" Ed dug for his wallet which was, as always, in his front pocket with his watch.

"I can pay Edward."

"Idiot! I know you don't have any money!"

"I'm sure I do in my briefcase."

"I don't want to watch you scavenge for the stupid money anymore! It's like waiting for paint to dry- except ten times more annoying!"

"You don't have to worry about me..."

"Shut up." Ed spun on the bar tender who seemed to have gained some interest in the interaction before him. "So, you got a room for us or what?"

"Van Hohenheim?" he ignored Ed's demand, slowly placing the rag on the dark wood and leaning to look closer at the two.

"Ah yes. That is my name... Have we met?" Hohenheim pulled himself from the position Ed had dragged him in, meeting the man's eyes.

"Well I'll be damned! You don't remember our little town?" immediately the tender was animated tenfold as he left the shelter of his bar and helped Hohenheim onto a stool.

"Well...I've been to many towns" Ed's father was rubbing the back of his neck, looking irritatingly bashful.

"You don't remember, huh?" the man sounded plenty confused about this, but continued "You came a few years back and saved our inn from that mud slide, pulled off some crazy alchemy trick and left without a chance for us to thank you." he spun back behind the counter and snatched up a mug.

"I owe you a beer at least- and maybe the kid here can have some milk or something."

"I don't drink." both spoke at the same time. Ed and Hohenheim really shouldn't have been this synchronized in speech. It was getting creepy. The bartender looked between them, eyebrow quirked

"Then at least let me get you something to eat. I've got some stew in the kitchen." he said slowly. To this, neither could object and both nodded to the man who made his way to the opposite end of the bar and through a swinging door.

"You don't drink? You used to with Granny Pinako all the time- there are photos!" he repeated incredulously. His father lifted his shoulders, looking mild.

"I did drink with Pinako, but you're not her and I don't think it's very appropriate for a father to drink in front of his son."

"Oh, so now you're a proper father? I don't think it's very appropriate for a father to leave his wife and sons so what kind of dad does that make you?" Ed watched his father for the reaction to his heated words. Hohenheim didn't even defend his very lacking parental skills; he pulled the spectacles from his nose and began wiping them on his vest. The glasses were clicked softly onto the counter and stared at for a while. Ed faced his father with a sour look and continued until the bar tender returned with food.

"You two look awfully alike." the man remarked. Ed wished fervently that the tender would return to his apathetic nothingness and leave them alone

"Yeah. He's got all the proper parts of his face and all his limbs and- hey! You and I look awfully alike too! Maybe it's because we're both human beings, you think?" Ed's snark was nearly tangible and dripping sarcasm like the stew from his spoon. The man gave him a blank look before schooling his features to appear affronted. He opened and closed his mouth a few times in preparation of some rebuttal.

"You must excuse Edward. I was very much like him at that age- you see, he is my son." Hohenheim had the nerve to sigh

"Like Hell I was anything like you at my age! Bastard." the bar tender blinked and had the decency to seem somewhat bewildered.

"Oh... I see... Well, I'll just leave you to your food."

He shuffled further down the bar with one last uncertain glance and Ed was alone with his food and his father.

Hohenheim gave his food a quick once over before diving in. He ate like a starved man

"When was the last time you had anything to eat?" Ed really wished he hadn't voiced something so close in resemblance to concern, but when the spoon paused it's rapid motion he knew there was no taking it back. The older alchemist appeared to be in deep contemplation as he stared into his stew.

"I- well... I'm not sure." he answered lamely. Ed wanted to smack his own forehead. With his automail hand.

"You're a pretty crap traveler, then."

"Well I-"

"I mean, what kind of idiot is on the road, for weeks on end, with no supplies?"

"Edward... It's not very important whether I have food or not. I'll reach my destination eventually and then I can break."

Ed forgot his stew in favor of facing his father and giving him a look crossed between anger, shock, and long-suffering. The man peered back with some reluctance.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Ed's sharp words roused a drunk down the bar who pivoted his head from side to side before discovering he had more drink left. The Fullmetal Alchemist held his father's eyes with his own, hoping the intensity would translate to a distinct "what the Hell do you think you're doing?" and maybe work some sense into the man. To his further annoyance, Hohenheim actually laughed. It sounded forlorn, though, and tainted with that special self- loathing Ed had begun to identify when his father addressed himself.

"I've been trying to find a way to do that for years, Edward, so many years I know I've lost count." Ed couldn't even attempt to revive the irritation that had so suddenly disappeared. Shock dominated his features.

"You've been trying to..." he couldn't finish the sentence. " But you had a wife and kids! Why would you even think about... About-"

"It is because I have a wife and children who I love very much. I can only hope to explain this all to you one day, Edward- and Alphonse too, but... today is not that day." Hohenheim had that horrible, sad, regretful look again and it made Ed's fist curl with barely restrained violence. Why did he feel such sympathy for this idiot bastard who insisted keeping secrets from his own son? Man, Ed really needed to punch something.

"Whatever. Eat your stupid stew."

Hohenheim didn't need to be told twice, but his golden eyes still lingered on his son. Ed ignored him. The food was way more important.

Dinner continued as a tense affair similar to an over stuffed shopping bag. In this case, Ed's brain was the cramped satchel and he was ready to split at the seams, leap up and pommel something or someone with such bravado Major Armstrong would be jealous. He wished desperately to lash out- verbally or physically- at the man by his side. Something prevented him, though. Something infuriatingly obtrusive, something he couldn't quite grasp, something that left him with more questions than answers, something Ed wished was tangible enough to literally be punched away. In the end, Edward decided figuring this blockage was far too much effort and, at this thought, settled into a simmering rage. If Hohenheim felt the volatile waves cresting in his direction he did not show it and continued devouring his food like a parched sponge would water. Ed shoveled his dish with forceful anger, nearly chipping a tooth in the process.

At least the stew was decent

* * *

It turned out the inn did have a room for them. Ed had no idea why he was making himself experience the constant annoyance he was feeling. The shared bedroom was only proof he had no qualms about subjecting himself to an easily avoidable, oversized dose of pure, unadulterated irritation. His father, the damn opportunist, was taking advantage of his son's presence and acting like he actually wanted to spend time with Edward. It was infuriating how accurately Hohenheim played the role of the regretful, self hating father figure. Ed wanted to gag, it was so pathetic. For a moment, the Fullmetal Alchemist considered that maybe the man's supposed act was actually truthful- and quickly banished the thought. At least with a bastard father, Ed knew how to deal with things. He had no idea how to take the version of Hohenheim that vied for his son's love. There was too much of that side revealed during their little trip. It was terrifying.

Ed just wanted his father to be easier to hate.

The room around them was utilitarian with a pair of wall mounted lamps, a dresser, two beds and a shallow closet perpendicular to the wall with the window. Outside, it was dark and the clear fall sky was a loom of stars, interwoven in some delicate tapestry that seemed to juxtapose Ed's unwieldy anger. He turned from the view to look at the opposite wall, a whitewashed plane with a single framed photo of a waterfall looking very small in the middle of it's vast, pale expanse. Along the minimalist moulding at floor level, ran strips of scuff marks from suitcases dragged in an out of rooms. Hohenheim's measly briefcase rested low against the surface. It was slightly ajar and full of crumpled shirts, vests and what looked like a shaving kit. The man traveled light. Too light if the predicament involving the ditch earlier indicated anything. It seemed Hohenheim was a careless man when it came to his own well-being.

Above the suitcase, in the bed was the man himself. Hohenheim was not asleep- in fact, he looked horribly uncomfortable lying on top of the covers on the narrow mattress. His feet hung off. Ed scowled and turned back, whipping his covers around him in an increasingly tight cocoon.

"Edward?" Hohenheim's voice sounded light in the sparse room, quiet enough to float up and get caught in the dormant ceiling fan.

"Go to sleep." Ed growled into his pillow. This was met by silence. The young alchemist peeked past his pillow to where his father was resting. Hohenheim continued to gaze at the fan like it held all the solutions to his fathering problems. Ed huffed and flopped fully away from the room's other occupant. He endeavored to fall asleep.

The light in the corner was snapped off and the sound of someone shifting in the bed next to Edward's broke his near stupor of approaching slumber. He cursed into the soft stuffing, a nondescript grumble into his pillow. Only the sound of light breathing came from Hohenheim's side of the room. Ed wished he would fall asleep soon because lying in the dark silence was getting increasingly awkward with prolonged consciousness. The faint click of the radiator under the window added to the bleak white noise of the room and the sound of shifting covers was nearly deafening. Hohenheim barely made a sound, it was as if he were frozen in his bed.

Under the pale blue swathe of moon light over his quilt, Ed willed his eyes shut, drifting farther from the present world. The space behind his eyelids seemed to darken. He felt the edges of sleep take hold. At that calm, drifting point, Edward caught a murmur from his father. While the tone may have been quiet and unobtrusive, the words burrowed into his core with the same ferocity as lines shouted on a bullhorn.

"Edward... I know you may not appreciate this, but I want to tell you that I love you and your brother very much." A sigh "I may do a bad job showing it, but I wanted to tell you- even if you cant't hear me."

Ed had no words for this and remained cocooned to avoid any further confrontation of the very tentative issue. Lacking so much as a sound to respond with, he continued in he bed, frozen and holding in breath. It would've been less painful and awkward if Edward had been asleep as Hohenheim thought he was. The problem was Ed had heard it all and no amount of pretending could delete the weighty words from his mind. He was caught between so many reactions; maybe stay statuesque on the bed or respond with his regular anger or sob all over his father in uncharacteristic weakness. The harsh words "Go to sleep, bastard." hovered close to his lips. Ed just had to open his mouth. He could hear it in actuality as he considered the action.

Breathing in, Ed spoke.

And nothing came out.

There was some kind of block. It was preventing Ed from giving the bastard the talking to he deserved. He wanted to punch and shout and kick and curse because the man deserved it so much, but the nameless obstruction remained and for once, it gave him a line to ponder:

'What if he doesn't deserve any of that?'

Ed really needed to release some physical violence

Sleep came eventually with maddening hesitance. The hive-like frenzy of his thoughts was deafening. When Ed finally closed his eyes he found somehow he was facing his father. The last thing he saw was Hohenheim's somber face.

With tumultuous thoughts, Edward drifted to sleep.

* * *

Morning was the golden square of light across his face. Blinking away sleep, Ed gazed at dust motes drifting on glittering diagonals. For a brief moment, the young State Alchemist had no idea where he was. To his left, the waterfall picture became a framed rectangle of orange light as the sun crested low over the window sill and reflected bright on the glass. Below it was an empty bed. Edward found himself filled with an unexplained rage, frozen in his bed for a few tense moments, trying to find the source of his anger.

The day before returned with maddening clarity. Ed ripped the sheets aside, fuming, and stomped across the room. How predictable! The Bastard leaves without even a small wave or some other rendition of 'goodbye'. The bed dressing landed over the radiator, recovering from Edward's furious fling and the young alchemist made a strangled sound of acute distress. A curse balanced on his lips, more than ready to burst out with unbridled vigor.

"Edward?"

Van Hohenheim stood in the doorway, face sporting hints of shaving cream and no glasses. At the sight of the man, Ed continued to rage despite the fact that his father was still clearly with him and had yet to re-abandon his son. Instead, in his half-maddened morning daze, the Fullmetal Alchemist snatched the closest thing up and hurled it solidly at the older man's face. The room service information binder sailed through the air and landed a sure smack below Hohenheim's jaw. It had been a rather heavy leather bound book and the sound of it connecting with Ed's father's chin was immensely satisfying. The force sent Van Hohenheim tumbling into the hallway, a dismayed look written across his face.

"What was that for?" The older alchemist rolled to a halt and asked with no small amount of indignation. Edward was almost about to apologize. He almost said he was sorry. He almost did.

There was a chuckle. Hohenheim rubbed the back of his neck, a slow smile gracing his usually stern countenance. Still on the floor, he looked up at his son.

"I guess whatever reason you had, I deserved it."

And for the first time since finding the bastard on the side of the road the day before, Edward Elric didn't want to punch his father.

A.N.: Welp. That's done. If you liked this and you like Harry Potter, you should peep yourself some of my crossover fics Redefinition and A Father's Burden A Father's Gift- especially if you like Professor R. J. Lupin. He and Papa Hoho make a real good bromance. I love me some bromance.

Have a productive life,

Rudefool.


End file.
